


The English Patient

by Warp5Complex_Archivist



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-03-19
Updated: 2006-03-19
Packaged: 2018-08-16 06:57:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8092144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Warp5Complex_Archivist/pseuds/Warp5Complex_Archivist
Summary: Malcolm's sick; Trip plays nurse. (04/01/2003)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Kylie Lee, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Warp 5 Complex](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Warp_5_Complex), the software of which ceased to be maintained and created a security hazard. To make future maintenance and archive growth easier, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but I may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Warp 5 Complex collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/Warp5Complex).

  
Author's notes: EntSTSlash challenge; someone has to have a wisdom tooth out, what sort of patient would he be and who would look after him? And use the line, 'You only look like you've been hit by a small baseball bat now.'  


* * *

'Pineapple ice cream,' Tucker said as if that made everything clear.

Apparently it did.

'Ah,' Archer nodded and gave his friend a knowing look. 'And how is Malcolm?'

'A pain in the ass!'

It was said with such feeling that Archer couldn't help laughing.

'I'm not jokin', Cap'n,' Tucker protested. 'When I left him ta come here, it was either that or strangle him.'

'Do you want to talk about it?' Archer asked uncertainly. 'My quarters, over a drink, maybe?'

'Nah. Thanks, but I'd better get back.' He finished his milk and wandered over to the table where he'd left his tools, but instead of leaving he turned back to the captain. 'It's like nursin' a child,' he exclaimed. 'Worse. M' little sister was nothin' compared to Malcolm. He's such a baby!'

'This _is_ Malcolm we're talking about?' Archer was having trouble with the images Tucker's outburst was conjuring up. In his experience getting his armoury officer to admit to being anything less than 'fine' was a minor miracle.

'I know what yer thinkin'. I was expectin' the same. Hell, he's been shot, beaten senseless, pinned to the hull, and all I got out of him was, 'I'm fine'. Injured in the line of duty is one thing. Injured, the man can stoic for England. But sick, that's a whole 'nother story.' Tucker finished with a glare as he saw Archer raise a hand to hide his smile.

'Sorry, Trip. I'm not laughing at you. It's just difficult to picture Malcolm...well, you know?'

'Let me make it easier for ya, Yesterday I took him soup for his lunch; tomato, like he asked for. First of all the colour wasn't right. Don't ask,' he muttered as Archer raised an eyebrow at him. 'Then it was too hot. So we talked fer a bit while it cooled, then...'

'Let me guess,' Archer interrupted. 'It was too cold.'

'Yer gettin' the picture,' Tucker agreed. 'Dinner was more soup, chicken and mushroom all whizzed up to make it easier to drink. It was good, had it myself. Didn't think it'd be very tactful to have a steak while Malcolm can't eat. Did he thank me? Did he hell. Why wasn't I eatin'; didn't I know that just made him feel worse? An' soup for two meals was wrong. An' it was too salty, or not salty enough. Can't remember now.' Tucker was getting into his stride, literally as he started pacing back and forth in front of the captain. 'An' the night. I won't tell ya what the night was like!'

'No, you probably shouldn't,' Archer said, feeling something was expected of him.

'So, breakfast was porridge, which he likes. Not as much as pancakes, but he does like it. I've seen him eat it in here, more than happy. But not today. Today it was too thick. We thinned it down with milk, but that made it lumpy, and too cold. Lunch...' He paused in his pacing and ran a hand through his hair, leaving the normally slicked down locks standing on end. 'Well, yer see what I mean.'

'He's not a happy bunny, is he?' Archer sympathised. 'But it's got to be difficult for him too, Trip. Having a wisdom tooth out isn't exactly fun, even these days.'

'I know, I know. He doesn't mean to be difficult. He keeps _sayin'_ he doesn't mean to be difficult. Apologisin'. But all that proves is that he knows he _is_ being difficult. Then, just as I'm gettin' all riled up, he'll give me a look, yer know, like Porthos beggin' for cheese, an'...What? What's so damn funny?'

'I'm sorry, Trip,' Archer gasped, 'I'm not laughing at you.'

'So you've said.'

'No, really, Trip,' Archer said, trying to mollify the exasperated engineer. 'It was just the idea of Malcolm begging like Porthos. I'm sorry. I won't laugh again. Go on.'

'No. I really should be gettin' back now. Thanks for lettin' me blow off steam. I just didn't think nursin' Malcolm for two or three days would be so difficult.'

'You could always let Phlox deal with his medication. He did offer. And the steward could take Malcolm his meals, when you're on duty, at least, to give you a break.'

'No, that wouldn't be fair. I wouldn't be much of a boyfriend if I didn't stick with him through the bad as well as the good would I? I'll just get his ice cream, seein' as how I've paid for it.'

* * *

A few minutes later Tucker walked into Malcolm's quarters, surprised to see the bed empty and the cover twisted into a knot on the floor.

'Is that you, Trip?' The voice came from the bathroom.

Trip placed the ice cream container on the desk and, since the door was open, walked into the bathroom to join his partner. Malcolm was standing by the sink examining his swollen face in the mirror. He was wearing baggy pyjama bottoms and a loose tee-shirt; his hair was mussed and he had a dazed, dreamy look in his eyes that Tucker found damn sexy, even though he knew it was caused by Phlox's strong pain killers.

'I look like I've been hit with a cricket bat,' Malcolm mumbled complainingly, palpating the swollen side of his face.

'That was yesterday, darlin',' Tucker teased. 'You only look like you've been hit by a small baseball bat now.'

'Not funny,' Malcolm sulked. 'I can't talk properly, can't eat properly,' he turned and planted a lob-sided kiss near Tucker's mouth. 'And I can't kiss properly either,' he finished with a sigh.

'It won't be for long, Mal. Come back in the other room. I've got a surprise for you.' He guided Malcolm to the chair by the desk, then opened the cool box and lifted out the bowl of ice cream.

'Here you are, made specially for ya.'

Malcolm picked up the bowl and used the spoon to poke at the yellow contents. Then he shivered and put the bowl down again.

'It's a bit cold for ice cream, don't you think?' he said, rubbing the hand that had been holding the chilled bowl against his leg to warm it.

Tucker gritted his teeth, took a deep breath and told himself, he's sick, he's not doing it deliberately, don't get mad.

'Maybe if you got back into bed, Malcolm. I could tuck you in and then we could eat the ice cream together.'

'That might be nice,' his drowsy partner conceded.

He climbed onto the bed and sat, his back against the pillows, while Tucker straightened out the covers and tucked them in around him.

Tucker retrieved the ice cream and sat himself on the bed. He dug a spoonful from the bowl and offered it to Malcolm.

'I'm not a baby,' his partner said petulantly. 'I can feed myself.' He took bowl and spoon from Tucker and finally tasted the ice cream. His face lit up in a dopey smile. 'It's pineapple!' he said. 'Chef told me he couldn't make pineapple.'

'Yeah, well, I had a chat with him, an' he remembered he could,' Tucker said, happy to see Malcolm looking less sorry for himself.

'You got chef to make pineapple ice cream, just for me. That's so sweet, Trip.' He leaned across and gave Trip a cold kiss. 'I'm sorry I'm being such a pain in the arse. You must be really fed up with me.'

'Nope. Don't think I'll ever be fed up with you.' Well, not for long anyway, he added to himself.

Malcolm finished the ice cream and handed him the empty bowl back to him with another smile. 'Are you going to come to bed now? All that ice cream's made me cold. Need something to cuddle, to warm me up again.'

Tucker stripped off his uniform and slipped into the bed alongside his partner. They lay on their sides, spooned together, Tucker with his arm curled round Malcolm's waist.

'Are you staying 'til morning?' Malcolm asked sleepily. 'Woke up this morning and you weren't here. Lonely.'

'Bit of an engineering emergency, that's all.' Like the chief engineer needing to get some sleep, Tucker thought.

'So you'll be here in the morning?'

'Yeah, don't worry, darlin'. I'll always be here when you need me.'


End file.
